


See Ya When I See Ya

by RichieBrook



Series: Last Shadow Snippets [7]
Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichieBrook/pseuds/RichieBrook
Summary: Lots of affection and a goodbye (for now?).
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Series: Last Shadow Snippets [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1298540
Comments: 22
Kudos: 29





	See Ya When I See Ya

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 29 January 2021 20:11  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>; Alex Turner <[a.turner@arcticmonkeys.com](mailto:a.turner@arcticmonkeys.com)>  
**Subject:** Happy new year! the apocalypse has started let’s play fifa

Hi Al,

Maybe you do check your emails of all things. I’m sending this to your professional one and your private one just so I know you’re at least reading it. How’s quarantine treating you love? I haven’t heard from you in close to five months so I’m assuming the worst: you probably lost my phone number, your phone, or all ten of those talented fingers. Such a shame. 

It’s going alright for me, thanks for asking. I was able to get a lot of work done, but the past couple of months I’ve mostly been chillin and ramping up my fifa scores. The times of you beating me at fifa are over Turner! The reign of Kane has started!! Call me up when you feel brave enough for a game.

Anyway. I’m getting side-tracked. It is only now that I’m typing this that I realise I don’t know what to tell ya. You know you’re ignoring me, I don’t have to tell you that. I guess I’m wondering if it’s just me or everyone you’re ignoring. Because if it’s just me, I’m sick and tired of it. I thought we were past this. You’re still me best mate and the best shag I’ve ever had. I just know you’re rolling your eyes at me right now, but I don’t feel like censoring myself today for your benefit. I know you feel the same.

If you’re ignoring everyone, go talk to someone. It don’t have to be me if you don’t want it to be. I know how you get and quarantine probably isn’t doing that big brain of yours any favours. 

Whichever one of the two it is, I recommend fifa and a pint or two. Doctor’s orders. You’ve got my address. Hell, you’ve got a bloody key. I mean, do you still have it or did you toss it out?

Xx

* * *

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 31 January 2021 15:35  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>  
**Subject:** best shag i've ever had

Good morning love,

You were perfect. Last night was amazing. Looks like we still got it. ;) ;)

I should have started sending you emails five months ago. It were the nicest surprise to find you in my apartment when I came home from the shops. Next time let me know so I can get groceries for two instead of one.

Either way, I’m just checking in aren’t I. I still don’t know what to tell you even though I know there must be something. Writing down me thoughts were never my strong suit anyway. It’s yours, but you haven’t been doing it. I’m going to give it a try and I hope you’ll consider doing the same. We didn’t get to talk much last night. Not that I regret that. ;)

  1. I’m glad you’re doing okay, or you know, as okay as you can be considering these mad times we’re living in.  
2\. You looked STUNNING last night. Couldn’t believe me eyes.  
3\. Told you I’d beat you at fifa. You suck xx  
4\. Which you are very good at by the way.  
5\. You are allowed to roll your eyes at me for that one.  
6\. It was good to see you’ve still got all your fingers and that you remembered how to use them.  
7\. You’re allowed to roll your eyes at me for that one too.



Take care of yourself. I’m serious. And tell your girlfriend boys deserve a shoulder to cry on too. You know, should they need it. I’m not saying you do need it, just. For fuck’s sake. Just tell her to give you a bloody hug or I’ll come over and do it for her. Jesus. Why are your relationships always so messy?

  1. It’s because you don’t talk.



If you want to stop by again this weekend, do.

Xx

* * *

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 8 February 2021 08:10  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>  
**Subject:** thanks for the coffee (and the sex) + honesty  
  
Hi love,

I hate Mondays almost as much as you do, but I must say you made this one a hell of a lot more bearable. You make the best coffee.

I feel like I’m talking into the void sending these, but then again you keep showing up. Maybe I’m pushing me luck and you’ll stop showing up after this email, simply because I mentioned it.

Why won’t you talk anymore? I know you’re the quiet sort, but to do away with words of any meaning altogether seems a bit rash even for you. (And yes, even if it’s for some sort of new secret project.) Besides, isn’t writing supposed to be your thing? That’s why I started this. Should I go back to leaving you annoying voice messages? I bet you secretly loved those. Did you save em? Do you miss them? Let me know!!

I’ve decided something. I’m not going to spare you anymore. I’m going to tell you exactly what’s on me mind, without censoring meself, regardless of how embarrassed or seen itll make you feel. It’s funny how you tend to hold back always, except in bed. Outside of that you’ve clammed up entirely since we last hung out regularly. It bugs the hell out of me Al seriously. From now on I’ll be doing the opposite.

Because there’s nothing to be ashamed of you know? I had a great time this weekend. You made me feel looked after when you brought groceries for the both of us. It made me smile like an idiot to realise that you bought both your brand of cigarettes as well as mine. When you came in and immediately toed off your trainers - I liked that. I liked how you said hello to me. Your hand around me wrist, your lips on my cheek. I liked that you were wearing a tracksuit. It were as if you were simply coming home. Ha. Our friends usually have you down for the soppy bastard, but I must admit I’m just as bad, if not worse.

I like where things went. I like the way you pulled me into the bedroom. The way you tore off my clothes, forgetting about your own altogether. I like how you sweet talked me into taking you up against the wall. Your hair was so sweaty it fell over your eyes in thick shiny strands. Your skin was so hot I swear I could’ve burnt meself. Your mouth hung open in spite of your best efforts to remain perfectly charming and collected. It only made me even more determined to ruin you. Always does. I always want to get through to you and leave you raw and open; leave you human. It’s my favourite thing to see you lose control of your carefully constructed persona and give into me. To let me carry you from the wall to the bed, with cum leaking out of you (don’t think I didn’t notice and yes I'm bloody saying it cause it is what happened), your shoulders covered in love bites and your arse covered in fingerprints from where I held onto you. I love to see it. Love to see you. I love to see you lose it. Just thinking about it gets me going. You were a mess. A stunning fucking mess.

Sex isn’t pretty and polished ya know. You weren’t pretty and polished. You were Al. And you were gorgeous and loose and out of control and all mine and I want more of it. I always want more and more and more of it.

I liked how you curled up against me after. I liked how you clung to me. It made me feel needed. I haven’t felt that in a while. I liked getting to cling to you like the soppy bastard I am. I hope it made you feel needed, too.

I thought it were sweet when you got us something to drink after. And I really enjoyed getting to play fifa in bed together until it started to get light outside. You’re not a sore loser, I have to give you that. ;) You were amazing and warm and hones.

See? I got all that even though you were barely saying a word. You can’t bloody hide from me.

I’m no good at writing, but I’m going to keep doing it until you start talking to me again. And I don’t mean all those trivial conversations we’ve had about work and the pandemic and the weather. You know what I mean. I understand if you can’t do next weekend, considering that what we’re doing is not on. Be with your girlfriend if you need to. Let me know. Or don’t.

XX

* * *

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 15 February 2021 19:11  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>  
**Subject:** more honesty

Alex,

What I should have said when I said ‘Let me know. Or don’t’ was ‘Let me know’. Hope you’re doing well, but that shit hurts.

X

* * *

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 22 February 2021 9:30  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>  
**Subject:** selfish (you, not me)

If you want me to stop contacting me, you have to use your words. Tell me.

* * *

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 27 February 2021 17:24  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>  
**Subject:** affection

Hi Al,

Thanks for the flowers. That was some gesture. Is this what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your affection?

I’m kidding. I know exactly what it’s like to be on that end. I like to think I know better than most people. I remember those long days on tour together, when you would make sure I was alright throughout the day. You know how I get. I get excited. I forget to eat, I forget to drink water. You always got my back, whether it was by carrying an extra water bottle or ordering dinner for the both of us while I was asleep in your hotel room. I enjoy touring like nothing else, but you tend to be a lot more prepared.

The gigs were me absolute favourite. I know that on stage we played it up for a laugh an all, this thing between us, but it was so much fun. It was _so_ much fun, Al.

And little did they know what it was really like. That was part of what I liked about it, too. For how open we were on stage, no one could have suspected for a minute just what it was like off stage. How unlike a game it was to sleep in your bed each night. How much of that affection you were putting on on stage was real. At the start, you’d be careful with me. A little too careful, and I’d tell you that. It was nice in a way though. To be treated like that. You were always considerate, especially during our first times. You’d talk me through it, your voice low and oh so _fuckin_ sexy. I swear I could’ve gotten off on just your stupid voice. It were different from sleeping with anyone else. It were easier. There was no room for doubt or embarrassment. You were affectionate and patient and maybe that was exactly what I needed to wind down and relax during such a whirlwind tour. You always seemed to know exactly what type of affection was in order. A quick hug from the side, a cup of hot coffee pushed into me hands on a Monday morning, even spooning me from behind and holding me close when I’d be jittery from too much adrenaline, too much booze and too much waiting around before we’d get to go on stage. You always knew exactly what I needed. How to best show your affection.

But you’d duck your head when I’d tell you how gorgeous you looked. You were never able to say ‘thank you’ when I brought you breakfast and you were suddenly busy when I wanted to take you out to dinner, just the two of us. You’re not usually shy around me Al. Why are you so shy when it comes to those things? Don’t you like being on the receiving end of someone’s affection, Alex? Does it make you feel caught? Embarrassed? Undeserving? Less of a man? I’m speculating, of course, but I know you and I know I’m right on at least a few accounts. You can have nice things, you know.

You’re not immune to affection though, I know that much. Your entire body would relax when I ran my fingers through your hair: your eyes would fall closed, you’d shiver and your lips would part. You’d stutter when I’d kiss your forehead an you’d forget how to form words when I worked on the knots in your shoulders. Is that why you’ve been so goddamn quiet, perhaps? Did I make you forget how to use your words all those years ago? I'm pretty damn great but I'm not sure I'm that great. (kidding i totally am)

You’re a man of few words, but you prefer them. Words, I mean. I’m a man of many words, but I prefer actions: the way you’d curl up against my side to get some sleep during a long bus ride. Your hand on my lower back as we left the stage after a gig. Cramming in a few hours of sleep together before we moved on to the next city. Dancing naked in our hotel rooms. Prank calling Helders. Trying out cocktails in poisonous looking colours. Karaoke. Kisses. Sex. Whispered in-jokes and shared laughs. There was so much joy in each and every single one of our actions.

I much prefer actions, but sometimes they don’t cut it. These flowers should have come with an Al Turner instruction manual. Feel free to email it to me.

Xx lots of love and affection,

Yours always,

your Miles

* * *

**From:** miles kane <mileskane86@hotmail.com>  
**Sent:** 14 March 2021 13:24  
**To:** Alexander Turner <[adturner@gmail.com](mailto:adturner@gmail.com)>  
**Subject:** last night

Sweet Al,

I won’t write you another essay today. I loved havin you over babe. Before you start apologising again, it’s okay that nothing happened. I hope you were able to get in a good night’s sleep. Talk about this with your girlfriend. And I don’t just mean the sleepless nights. I mean your inability to even bring anything up anymore. You're clearly needing something from her that she can’t give you right now, because she doesn’t know. Talk to her and let her know. Tell her ‘luv, I need a hug’. Tell her you need her to listen, even if you’re just going to be rambling. Don’t let whatever it is that’s been on your mind fester.

Thanks for the CD, by the way. There's no need for it though. I know you adore me.

A lil side note for ya: You could also tell her ‘luv, I’m sorry, but I need Miles’. Because I think you might. If you were mine, I’d treat you right. You know that perfectly well. You know it in the deepest depths of that complicated heart of yours. I know I’m a fool for putting this into words an actually asking you this, but be mine. You wouldn’t regret it for a single day in your life, I’d make sure of that.

Love, Miles

* * *

**From:** Alexander Turner <adturner@gmail.com>  
**Sent:** 25 March 2021 01:49  
**To:** miles kane <[mileskane86@hotmail.com](mailto:mileskane86@hotmail.com)>  
**Subject:** Summer

Miles,

You asked me to talk and I will. Where to begin?

Practical things, first. Louise has asked me to stop seeing you for now. We’ll be driving to France together soon to stay with her parents for a while and we shouldn’t be taking risks. We’ll be quarantining together until then. I’m sorry and I hope to see you again very soon. I _will_ miss you, Miles.

And now, for the rest of it. Here goes. I will try my utmost to be as honest as you've always been with me.

You will always come first. You know that. But this, this thing you want, these things you want, cannot become reality, not least of all because it would never end up being the reality you’re envisioning when you picture us together. Our relationship is based on a fantasy we lived back in 2016, an endless summer of free love, secret whispers and belly laughs. A summer of wonderful things.

You’re my muse. I want to go on writing secret songs about you until the end of me. I’m asking you to please not kill the balance we have so carefully crafted and perfected. Don’t kill our fantasy - and I say ‘our’, because you’re perfectly aware that it’s not just mine. It’s yours, too. The carefree nature of our relationship is one that can co-exist only with fantasy; with the unconditional, free love that only exists in songs. I’ve written plenty of songs like that over the years myself. They’re all for you. Each and every single one of them.

I’m asking you to not try to turn us into something we can’t live up to. I _promise_ you that it wouldn’t be anything like you’re imagining right now. It wouldn’t be half as exciting - not half as physically, emotionally and poetically satisfying as our current relationship. There’d be a strain on things that every serious relationship inevitably causes. Our love, once boundless and raw, would go stale and lead to boredom. You’d end up wanting someone else. Someone less serious, someone looser and freer. But you wouldn’t dare admitting it. It would be a gradual, heartbreaking process. At first, there’d be less sex. Then, fewer kisses. Fewer whispered words. Barely any songs. And there’d be more secrets, except this time we wouldn’t share them with each other. We’d share them only with friends. There’d be a strain, always. A killing of my muse, and - if I may be so bold - a killing of yours.

And maybe you were right, earlier. Maybe I cannot accept the intensity with which you care for me. Maybe I have trouble coming to terms with the unapologetic bluntness with which you appreciate my body and mind. There is a rawness in your eyes and words that makes my skin crawl, because I wouldn’t know for the life of me where to store so much love - so much honest, requited adoration. Please do not make us waste something so beautiful, rare and alien to me on a steady relationship. Please, let us remain us. Let us remain free, and messy and chaotic. Let us play fifa until you get so giddy about your wins that you fuck me into the mattress with that triumphant, shit-eating grin of yours. Let me keep making you coffee in the mornings until the end of times. Let us keep having secret phone calls in the middle of the night, on tour or at home. Let us write and tour again together in the not too distant future.

I ask you to please allow us to remain in love with each other forever. Please consider remaining my muse, my all, me Miles.

Love always,

Your Alex

**Author's Note:**

> bah humbug
> 
> This is where this series ends for now. I might pick it up again some time in the future, but for now this feels right.


End file.
